


Order of Operations

by MyckiMor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, highschool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyckiMor/pseuds/MyckiMor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wasn't sure what to make of Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Order of Operations

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Highschool au destiel? :)

Castiel wasn't sure what to make of Dean Winchester. The last few months that they had spent around one another had lead him to believe one of two things. Dean was either a complete genius, or unquestionably stupid. Sadly, as he read over the younger boy's attempts at his algebra homework, Castiel was inclined to believe that it was the latter.

 

_2-(3-(-5(3x+1)+4))_

_= 6-15x+5_

_= 1-15x_

_15x=1_

_x=0.067_

 

It was all that Castiel could do not to groan, aloud. They'd been at this for nearly three hours, now, and the kid _still_ wasn't getting it. Why had he agreed to this whole 'helping the underclassmen' thing, again? Sure, Dean was a nice enough kid, if not a little too arrogant for his own good. It was obvious (ask any teacher, fellow student, or grade book) that he didn't give two hoots about school, but Castiel had really been hoping to change all of that. And, to his credit, Dean _had_ been showing some promise. At least he _seemed_ as though he wanted to try, ever since they had started up with these tutoring sessions. This afternoon, though... This afternoon had got to him. He wasn't sure what tricks he had left to help Dean understand, and, quite frankly, Castiel was beginning to think that it would be quicker to train a monkey.

“So?” Dean asked, grinning expectantly. “How did I do, Teach?”

Raising an eyebrow over top of the other boy's page, Castiel tried to remain calm. Screaming out, “How can you be this _dumb?!_ ” probably wouldn't do wonders for his reputation as a patient tutor. Though, this sort of left him at a loss for what else to say. Nothing else made any _sense._

It seemed that Dean took his silence for what it was, and frowned. “That bad, huh?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, having the grace to look embarrassed with himself. “At least I showed my work, this time, though, right?”

“Let me ask you something, Dean,” Castiel asked, at last, ignoring the obvious plea for praise and placing the paper back on the lab top, positioning it between the two of them. “ _How_ did you come to this conclusion?” Castiel knew that he sounded amazed, but he couldn't help it. This was blowing his mind.

Dean blinked, twice. “Well, it's that order of operations crap, right? So,” he leaned in closer on his elbows, pointing to each step, “Two and three, that's six, yeah? Five and three, fifteen. One plus four, five. Right across the board.”

Castiel knew that he should have been afraid of Dean's answer. “...-Who the hell taught you the Order of Operations?”

Green eyes widened at him, accusingly. “ _You_ did.”

Damn, that wasn't really a lie. “Were you actually _listening_ to me when I explained it, Dean?”

Across the table, Dean grinned. “Yeah, no. Not really.” He spun his pencil around his fingers, lazily.

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Castiel sighed. “All right, that's it.” He dropped his face into his hands, scrubbing them against his cheeks in frustration. “Dean, it's Friday afternoon... You don't have Algebra again until, what? Tuesday?” He peered at the younger boy between his fingers as he nodded. Sweet relief. “ _Okay, then._ Monday afternoon, right after class, meet me in the library.” Castiel reached across the lab top, and began to pack away his things. “We can try it again, then.”

“What's your hurry?” Dean asked after a moment. “Got a hot date?”

Castiel shook his head. “It's almost five o'clock, I've missed my ride to stay here and do this, and I'm hungry.” He stood from his seat, his book bag soon taking his place as he zipped it up. “So, you enjoy your weekend, and-”

“You wanna' go down to Alexa's?” The question caught Castiel off-guard, and he looked up to Dean's all-too-eager expression. “You ever been there? She makes a hell of a milkshake. Come on, I'll buy you some pizza, or whatever.”

A frown came over Castiel, then. Why couldn't Dean be this animated about getting his homework right? “Don't you have somewhere to be?” he asked, a little more snidely than he meant to. He'd just blame it on his unsatisfied appetite, later on. “A brother to watch? A girl to sweet-talk? Something?”

“Nope.” The younger smirked, seemingly unaffected by Castiel's tone. “My brother's at a friend's house, tonight.” He stood up, grabbing up his jacket and tugging it on. “And, I cleared my schedule, just for you. So, whatta ya' say? Let me buy you dinner?”

Castiel sighed, and began to argue him. “Look, Dean-”

“Oh, come _on._ ” Dean was practically whining, now. “I've been wanting to ask you that for forever. The _least_ you can do is say 'yes'.”

Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, Castiel eyed Dean, skeptically. “What are you talking about? 'Waiting to ask'?”

“Yeah, like... I mean, you spend your _every Friday_ trying to cram crap into my brain, and, bless you, but, we _both know_ I'm not gonna' be the next Einstein.” Castiel couldn't argue that, and began walking toward the door. Dean easily fell into step, beside him. “Hell, I'll probably be a drop-out, before my Senior year-”

“Don't say that,” Castiel cut-in, sharply. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was someone who projected the worst-case scenario of themselves. “You're a little bit low on hope, but you're not a lost cause, yet.”

Dean snickered. “Says the Brainiac Junior.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “My point is, don't think like that, okay? If you do, you'll never get anything. And, then, what am I spending all these Fridays doing?”

“My homework?” Dean offered, hopeful.

Not having expected that answer, Castiel couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. “ _Exactly._ ”

“Well, then, as thanks for doing my homework,” Dean continued, moving in front of Castiel, turning around so that he was walking backward, “I want you to let me buy you dinner.”

It was an argument that Castiel was going to lose, no matter what the outcome. Either he agreed, or went home with a headache. “Oh, fine, whatever. But, just this once.”

“Great!” Turning back around, Dean returned to his place beside Castiel. The two fell into a comfortable silence, Dean eying his shoes. “Hey, while we're at it, you wanna' go see a movie?”

Castiel raised that eyebrow, again. “Don't push your luck, Winchester.”

Hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, Dean shrugged. “Hey, can't blame a guy for trying, right?”

“Guess not...” Once again, though, if Dean would only put that much attention into listening, they wouldn't have to spend so many Fridays together. “Hey, Dean?” He glanced over at the other boy, waiting until he had Dean's full attention. “What the hell are you doing while you're _not listening_ to me?”

Dean's first response was a shy grin. “Really?” Castiel nodded, interested. Dean's gaze returned to his shoes for a second, before he looked back up at his tutor. He hesitated, and Castiel thought that he saw panic flash over the boy's eyes, before he spit out, “Spacing out, thinking about girls.”

That earned a scoff from Castiel. “Well, no offense, but, _it shows._ ”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Dean replied with a sigh, holding the door to the building open, and letting Castiel walk out ahead of him. “But, all these beautiful girls, Cas! How can they expect a guy to focus on American Literature when shorty-short season is right around the damned corner!”

Castiel cocked an eyebrow. “Some of us manage _very well,_ thank you.”

“Oh, what? You mean to tell me the thought of all the jocks running laps in tanks and shorts doesn't just get you all hot and bothered for the nicer weather?” Dean was grinning at him, again, in that infuriating, teasing way that made Castiel want to reach across and deck him one.

“Say it a little louder, next time,” he deadpanned, instead. Castiel shook his head, glancing up as their shoes finally hit the sidewalk. Alexa's was just a few streets over, which made the older boy happy. He'd had an appointment earlier that afternoon, and he had missed lunch. Now, it felt as though his stomach was threatening to abdicate. Ah, well. That was the price of being a good person, he often suspected. Sometimes, in order to help others, one had to go without. He glanced over at Dean for a second, and smirked. It could be worse.


End file.
